^^  COMEDYo/' 
CONSCIENCE 


S  •  WEIR    MITCHELL 


A 
Comedy  of  Conscience 


"  '  Leave  my  house!  '  " 


Comedy  of  Conscience 


By 

S.  Weir  Mitchell,  M.D. 

LL.D.  Harvard  and  Edinburgh 


New  York 

The  Century  Co. 

1903 


Copyright,  1903,  1903,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Published  March,  1903 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS. 


I  Q 


List  of  Illustrations 

PAGE 

"'Leave  my  house !  '"       .         .       Frontispiece 
"A  man  who  sat  opposite  caught  her  eye  "     13 

" '  Have  you  never  entertained  the  idea  of 

keeping  the  ring? '"      ...          27 

"'And  now,  madam,  .  .  .  have  the  kind 
ness  to  give  me  my  ring  '  "         .         .     87 

"Both  men  were  too  old  at  the  game  to 

hesitate  " 109 


[v] 


A 
Comedy  of  Conscience 


A 

Comedy  of  Conscience 

I 

THE  friends  of  Serena  Vernon 
said  that  she  was  a  spinster 
by  choice ;  she  herself  declared 
that  nature  had  elected  her  to  be 
a  maid ;  but  Cousin  John  Winter- 
bourne  said:  "It  is. a  profession 
with  Serena." 

She  spoke  of  herself  as  settled 

for  life,  and  as  being  thirty  years 

of  age.     Her  face  and  figure  were 

as    frank    in   representing   her   as 

[3] 


A   COMEPY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

any  age  a  man  in  love  might 
choose  to  set.  Prophetic  wis 
dom  must  have  given  her  the 
name  Serena,  and  considerate  fate 
had  so  far  done  nothing  to  contra 
dict  the  calmness  of  a  life  free  from 
stormy  fortunes. 

Serena  lived  tranquilly  in  her 
own  house  at  Denham,  and  con 
trived  to  show  a  fair  front  to  the 
world  on  an  income  so  modest  that 
it  would  have  puzzled  even  those 
who  knew  her  best  to  comprehend 
how  she  was  able  to  give  those 
delightful  little  dinners,  which,  to 
tell  the  truth,  were  somewhat  rare, 
but  entirely  perfect  of  their  kind. 
She  was  neat  in  her  ways,  but  not 
too  accurate;  and  in  her  dress,  as 
[4] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

in  her  housekeeping,  was  some 
what  of  a  mystery  to  her  acquain 
tance.  But,  as  her  friend  Mrs. 
Clare  once  remarked,  a  large  sup 
ply  of  old  lace  and  unfailing  good 
taste  will  really  accomplish  won 
ders.  She  had  both  the  lace  and 
the  taste,  and  declared  that  she 
disliked  competitive  exhibitions  in 
dress. 

As  a  man  I  dare  not  go  further 
in  an  effort  to  explain  what  was 
only  a  part  of  the  mysterious  at 
tractiveness  of  a  life  and  ways 
which  were  always  efficient  and 
never  in  excess.  She  once  said  to 
a  friend  that  if  a  woman  of  thirty 
were  worth  looking  at,  to  be 
dressed  as  if  she  were  forty  was 

[5] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

good  policy.  In  fact  she  never 
did  consider  questions  of  policy, 
but  was  apt  at  times  to  make  deli 
cately  humorous  statements  such 
as  that  I  have  quoted. 

Miss  Vernon  was  a  quietly  active 
member  of  what  she  spoke  of  as 
the  Church,  meaning  the  Episcopal 
Church,  and  had  an  unconfessed 
weakness  for  bishops,  and  for  the 
clergy  in  general,  especially  if  they 
were  of  the  High-Church  party. 

A  small  greenhouse  and  a  half- 
acre  of  ground  took  up  a  good 
deal  of  her  time,  and  many  a  man 
going  down  the  green  lane  in  June 
paused  to  watch  the  tall  woman  in 
gray,  in  her  wide  hat,  with  basket 
and  scissors,  busy  among  the  fast- 
[6] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

coming  roses.  Although  a  reader 
with  wide  sympathies  and  eager 
curiosity,  she  read  only  such  books 
as  she  could  afford  to  buy,  or  such 
as  were  sent  her  by  John  Winter- 
bourne  ;  for,  being  generally  reti 
cent,  she  was  shy  of  explaining 
that  she  disliked  to  handle  the 
books  of  public  libraries  because  of 
being  distressingly  imaginative  as 
to  where  and  in  what  hands  they 
had  been. 

She  was,  as  you  may  have 
guessed,  a  gentlewoman,  and  pos 
sessed  manners  which,  like  her 
dress,  were  neat  and  free  from  any 
over-anxious  desire  to  please.  She 
kept  a  cook  and  an  antique  maid, 
but  she  felt  that  she  was  not  yet 

[7] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

old  enough  to  allow  herself  the 
society  of  a  cat.  Her  only  living 
relative,  Cousin  John  Winterbourne, 
managed  her  small  property,  and 
at  times  gave  her  advice,  which 
she  often  asked  and  rarely  took. 
When  ill,  which  was  not  often,  she 
went  to  bed,  sent  for  her  other 
male  friend,  Dr.  Saffron,  and  treated 
his  prescriptions  as  she  did  her 
cousin's  advice.  She  was  intelli 
gent,  but  not  intellectual. 

Her  nearest  female  friend  was 
Mrs.  Clare,  who  had  come  through 
the  storms  of  an  ill-matched  mar 
riage  into  the  port  of  a  determined 
and  well-endowed  widowhood  with 
two  boys.  Miss  Vernon  was  ex 
tremely  fond  of  children,  and  a 
[8] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

critical  male  acquaintance  once  re 
marked  that  "  but  for  the  widow's 
boys  Serena  would  have  married 
a  clergyman.  These  boys  were  a 
buffer  between  Serena  and  mar 
riage."  Miss  Vernon  said  the  re 
mark  was  not  true  and  certainly 
was  not  nice. 

I  should  add  that  unobservant 
people  who  talked  for  the  first 
time  with  Miss  Vernon  thought 
her  reserved  and  not  very  inter 
esting.  Indeed,  most  of  the  many 
men  who  admired  the  grace  of  her 
rather  tall  and  quite  perfect  figure 
were  apt  to  qualify  their  praise 
with  the  statement  that  she  was 
cold. 

She  possessed  one  talent,  which 

[9] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

she  kept  for  herself  and  three  or 
four  friends.  She  sang  admirably, 
and  the  mechanic  who  paused  at 
evening  to  listen  went  on  his  way 
homeward  touched  as  by  a  charm 
of  sweetness.  She  underrated  her 
skill,  and  never  sang  elsewhere 
than  in  her  own  house. 

This  quiet,  pleasant  life  was  kept 
in  order  by  a  delicately  adjusted 
conscience.  It  ran  along  smoothly 
until  the  singular  event  took  place 
which  I  have  now  to  relate. 


[10] 


II 

SERENA  had  long  felt  that  her 
little  drawing-room  required 
new  curtains.  Twice  she  had  saved 
the  money  needed,  and  twice  had 
given  it  away  to  assist  a  mission 
to  the  Montana  Indians,  this  being 
her  favorite  form  of  charity.  Now, 
however,  a  small  lot  of  unimproved 
ground  had  been  sold,  and  she  felt 
free  to  indulge  her  long-postponed 
desire.  Accordingly,  she  went  to 
the  great  city  a  few  miles  away, 
and,  being  hard  to  please,  filled  her 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

little  hand-bag  with  patterns  to  be 
considered  at  home,  dropped  into  it 
her  purse,  which  contained  the 
money  she  had  meant  to  use  for 
the  curtains,  and  took  a  trolley-car 
to  return. 

Miss  Vernon  was  mildly  inter 
ested  as  to  the  lives  and  ways  of 
people  not  of  her  own  social  type, 
and  in  the  brightly  lighted  car 
were  many  such,  as  it  was  now 
after  dusk,  and  all  who  worked 
were  returning  to  their  homes. 

A  man  who  sat  opposite  caught 
her  eye.  He  was  large,  coarsely 
featured,  and  had  a  rough,  red  wart 
on  his  cheek.  He  wore  a  huge 
shirt-pin  and  a  glittering  ring, 
which  were,  as  she  concluded,  paste. 

[12] 


• 


'  A  man  who  sat  opposite  caught  her  eye." 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

People  got  in  and  went  out.  She 
opened  her  purse  to  pay  for  her 
ticket  of  transfer,  replaced  it  in  her 
bag,  and  lifted  a  child  to  her  lap. 
Presently  the  man  gave  his  seat  to 
a  thin  woman  encumbered  with  a 
basket.  Miss  Vernon  said  to  her 
self  that  her  judgment  of  the  man 
needed  modification,  and  made 
mental  note  of  her  too  hasty  con 
clusion  as  uncharitable.  As  others 
on  her  side  of  the  car  left  it,  she 
moved  a  little,  and  said  courte 
ously,  "There  is  room  here."  He 
replied,  "Thank  you,  ma'am,"  and 
sat  down. 

When  she  reached  home  she 
went  into  her  small  library,  brought 
out  of  a  closet  a  large  sheet  of 

[15] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

white  wrapping-paper,  and,  empty 
ing  her  patterns  upon  it,  began  to 
consider  them.  Presently,  sur 
prised  to  miss  her  purse,  she 
searched  her  pocket,  and,  failing^  to 
find  it,  knew  at  once  that  the  over 
dressed  fellow-passenger  at  her 
elbow  was  the  richer  by  thirty- 
seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents,  a 
luck-penny  of  1798,  and  a  receipt 
for  caramel  custard.  Much  an 
noyed,  she  shook  her  bag,  and  was 
amazed  to  see  drop  out  a  huge 
gold  ring  in  which  was  set  a  shin 
ing  stone.  She  was  not  what  her 
friend  Mrs.  Clare  described  as  an 
exclamatory  person,  but  now  she 
said :  "  Gracious  goodness  !  How 
absurd !  The  paste  ring  that  man 
[16] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

wore  !  Cousin  John  will  say  —  yes, 
he  will  say,  '  That  comes,  Rena,  of 
your  confounded  way  of  being  ag 
gressively  civil.'  He  did  say  that 
once,  and  now  he  will  call  this  a 
mutual  theft.  I  can  always  tell 
what  John  will  say.  It  must  have 
slipped  off  the  man's  finger." 

All  this  was  said  aloud  in  a  low 
tone.  Then  Miss  Vernon  rose  and 
rang  the  bell. 

"  Fetch  me  hot  water  and  soap 
and  a  finger-bowl." 

When  thus  provided,  she  washed 
the  ring  with  scrupulous  care,  and, 
having  dried  it,  put  it  on  her  finger. 
It  must  have  been  worn  as  a  thumb- 
ring,  she  thought.  She  had  heard 
that  rings  were  thus  worn  in  Ger- 

[17] 


A  COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

many.    It  was  fit  for  the  finger  of  a 
giant. 

Finally,  having  set  down  the 
date  in  her  diary  with  a  memoran 
dum  of  the  facts,  the  comic  aspect 
of  this  exchange  of  property  over 
came  her.  She  had  paid  rather 
dear  for  a  paste  stone  in  a  sham- 
gold  setting.  She  laughed  heart 
ily,  wishing  she  could  have  seen 
the  face  of  the  pickpocket  when  he 
discovered  his  loss.  After  this  she 
locked  up  the  ring  in  her  desk  and 
rang  for  tea. 


[18] 


Ill 

IN  the  evening,  after  dinner,  Miss 
Vernon  settled  promptly  on  the 
pattern  she  liked  best,  and  with 
dismay  remembered  that  the  money 
needful  to  buy  her  curtains  was  lost. 
How  shabby  the  old  ones  looked  ! 
She  went  back  to  her  volume  of 
Pusey's  sermons,  and  resolutely 
dismissed  the  matter  from  her 
thoughts. 

When  abed  and  about  to  glide 
tranquilly  into  slumber,  there  arose 
in  her  mind  a  sudden  and  amazing 

[19] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

reflection.  What  if  the  stone  were 
not  paste  ?  What  if  it  were  a  dia 
mond?  This  absurd  notion  was 
fatal  to  sleep ;  not  until  the  dawn 
appeared  did  she  forget  it  in  slum 
ber.  At  breakfast  it  troubled  her 
until  she  concluded  to  settle  the 
matter.  With  this  in  view,  she 
returned  to  the  city,  and  walked  to 
the  shop  of  a  jeweler  where  she 
was  well  known.  Mr.  Weldon,  one 
of  the  partners,  showed  her  into  a 
little  room  and  gave  her  a  seat  at  a 
small  table  on  which  lay  a  large 
square  of  black  velvet. 

Miss  Vernon  said,  "  I  have  here 
a  stone  lately  come  into  my  pos 
session.  Kindly  tell  me  if  it  has 
any  value." 

[20] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Any  value ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Any  value,  Miss  Vernon  ?  It  is  a 
diamond." 

"  A  diamond  ?     Are  you  sure?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Then  it  must  have  some  value. 
Is  it  a  good  stone  ?  "  Miss  Vernon 
had  a  not  uneducated  fondness  for 
precious  stones. 

"  It  is  a  white  diamond  of  per 
haps  two  and  a  half  carats,  worth 
about  eight  hundred  dollars.  If  it 
were  blood-orange  it  would  be 
worth  six  or  seven  thousand.  Dia 
monds  differ.  Just  now  the  taste 
is  for  color.  I  would  suggest  re 
setting." 

"  No ;  kindly  put  it  in  a  box." 

He  screwed  the  glass  on  to  his 

[21] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

eye.  "  Pardon  me  a  moment,  Miss 
Vernon.  It  was  set  about  1838 
—  ye-es,  1838.  This  setting  is 
French,"  he  added.  "What  we 
call  in  England  the  hall-mark  is 
plain."  Then  he  called  a  sales 
man,  who  thought  it  worth  quite 
eight  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 
"  Not  a  lady's  ring,"  he  added,  with 
a  grin. 

Miss  Vernon  did  not  wish  it  set, 
nor  was  she  inclined  to  sell  it.  Her 
sole  desire  was  to  be  alone  to  think 
over  the  situation,  which  her  imag 
ination  immediately  set  before  her 
conscience  in  a  variety  of  bewilder 
ing  forms. 

The  jeweler  put  the  ring  in  a 
box,  and,  holding  it  fast  in  her 

[22] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

hand,  Miss  Vernon  made  haste  to 
return  home,  setting  aside  for  the 
time  the  questions  that  inexorable 
ring  continued  to  ask  whenever  she 
allowed  herself  to  think  of  it. 

When  alone  in  her  library,  she 
sat  down,  put  the  ring  on  the  table 
before  her,  and  began  ingeniously 
to  torment  herself.  At  last  she 
became  so  hopelessly  perplexed 
that  she  said :  "  I  must  clear  my 
head.  I  will  write  it  down  ";  and 
this  was  what  she  wrote  in  her 
diary : 

This  stone  is  worth  $800  ! 
To  whom  does  it  belong  ? 
Was  it  that  man's  ? 
Did  he    steal  it  ?     That    is  not   my 
business.     Yes,  it  is. 

[23] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

The  ring  is  not  mine. 

I  have  it.     I  did  not  steal  it. 

It  was  not  given  to  me.  The  man 
robbed  himself.  He  will  never  come 
for  it. 

What  shall  I  do  with  it  ?  Oh,  dear ! 
what  will  John  say  ?  I  cannot  sell  it, 
because  it  is  not  mine.  I  cannot  return 
it  to  that  rascal,  because  it  may  not  be 
"his.  I  hate  to  ask  advice.  Now  I 
must.  I  will  ask  my  rector,  and  Helen 
Clare,  and  Cousin  John. 


[24] 


IV 


OERENA  knew  at  what  hour  in 
the  afternoon  she  would  find  the 


Rev.  Angelo  King  in  his  sacristy. 
She  was  fairly  inclined  toward 
High-Church  ways,  but  on  the  sub 
ject  of  confession  had  declined  to 
follow  her  clerical  adviser.  Once 
she  had  hurt  his  feelings  by  say 
ing  :  "I  will  confess  once  for  all, 
Mr.  King,  that  I  do  not  like  confes 


sion." 


The  Rev.  Angelo,  who  liked  to 

[25] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

be  called  Father  King,  was  not  of 
ascetic  build,  and,  although  he 
fasted  honestly,  found  himself  more 
and  more  of  cherubic  figure  as  life 
went  on.  Now,  as  she  entered, 
he  was  fully  prepared  by  Serena's 
grave  looks  for  a  confession. 
He  was  disappointed  when  she 
displayed  the  diamond  and  related 
her  scruples  and  difficulties,  but  he 
felt  that  this  was  at  least  an  ad 
vance  toward  that  emptying  of  a 
contrite  soul  to  which  he  so  ear 
nestly  desired  to  bring  this  fair 
sinner. 

The  sinner,  observing  his  serious 
face  and  medieval  attitude,  said, 
smiling :  "  This  is  not  an  ecclesias 
tical  confession.  I  have  done  no 

[26] 


Have  you  never  entertained  the  idea  of  keeping  the  ring' 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

wrong;  I  want  to  avoid  doing 
wrong." 

He  replied  gravely  :  "  Have  you 
never  entertained  the  idea  of  keep 
ing  the  ring,  which  is  not  your 
own,  and  is  not  that  sin  ?  " 

Miss  Serena  thought  this  un 
called  for,  and  was  not  to  be  so 
easily  trapped.  "  Yes,  but  one  has 
to  entertain  many  thoughts  about 
a  matter  so  hard  to  dispose  of. 
One  may  entertain  a  thought,  Mr. 
King,  and  not  give  it  much  to 
live  on." 

The  rector  did  not  like  this  tri 
fling  with  serious  matters.  Miss 
Serena  was  inwardly  pleased  with 
her  jest,  and  was  sorry  the  audience 
was  manifestly  unappreciative. 

[29] 


A  COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Mr.  King  was  silent  a  moment, 
and  then  said :  "  Why  not  give  the 
money  to  the  church  ?  We  need 
only  seven  hundred  for  our  newrere- 
dos,  for  the  rest  we  already  have." 

"  But  pardon  me,"  said  Serena. 
"  You  first  remind  me  that  the  dia 
mond  is  not  mine,  then  you  venture 
to  suggest  that  I  sin  in  considering 
it  mine,  and  at  last  you  advise  me 
to  give  away  what  is  not  mine." 

"  True,  quite  true ;  but  the 
church — "  Then  he  paused.  Cler 
gymen  get  the  habit  of  not  being 
interrupted  and  of  seeing  only  one 
side  of  a  question.  He  added  fool 
ishly  :  "  You  have  told  me  your 
doubts  and  confessed  thoughts 
which  you  feel  to  be  wrong." 

[30] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Bless  me  !  Mr.  King,  I  did  not 
confess  in  your  sense.  I  do  not 
want  absolution  until  I  feel  the 
need  of  it.  I  cannot  give  what  is 
not  mine." 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  replied.  "I 
may  have  been  hasty,  but  you  must 
do  something  with  this  ring.  The 
man  will  never  seek  to  recover  it. 
The  church  might  agree  to  repay 
the  value  of  it  if  ever  it  is  asked 
for.  This  should  put  you  at  ease." 

"  But,  Mr.  King,  suppose  that  I 
do  this  and  the  man  were  to  come 
and  say,  '  I  am  here  to  ask  for  my 
ring.'  The  church  would  say,  'It 
is  sold.'  He  might  say  it  was  a 
valued  heirloom,  and  where  should 
I  be,  and  you  ?  I  should  have  led 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

you  into  the  sin  I  desire  to  avoid 
for  myself." 

Upon  this  Miss  Vernon  rose. 
The  Rev.  Angelo  also  stood,  but 
felt,  as  he  looked  up  at  Miss  Ver- 
non's  five  feet  eight  of  graceful  fig 
ure,  that  a  foot  added  to  his  own 
height  might  have  victoriously  em 
phasized  his  spiritual  counsel. 

Miss  Vernon  said,  "  I  thank  you, 
but  I  cannot  take  your  advice. 
Good-by,"  and  went  out  disap 
pointed  mentally  and  morally  in 
her  rector. 


[32] 


THE  next  day  found  Miss  Vernon 
in  her  cousin  John's  sitting- 
room,  waiting  for  his  return  from 
luncheon  at  his  club.  Miss  Serena 
put  up  her  glass,  and,  moving 
about,  surveyed  the  room  with  the 
curiosity  with  which  an  unmarried 
woman  always  inspects  a  bachelor's 
belongings.  There  were  guns  and 
salmon-rods  in  apparently  useless 
number.  A  row  of  fly-books  re 
warded  her  with  charming  colors. 
Numberless  journals  were  there  — 

[33] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

enviably  printed  British  quarter 
lies,  the  French  reviews,  all  manner 
of  illustrated  papers,  with  books  on 
science,  art,  sport,  and  a  few  French 
novels.  Cousin  John  shot  ducks  in 
winter,  or  snipe  and  partridges,  and 
wound  up  with  tarpon-fishing;  had 
a  brief  season  of  idleness,  then 
killed  salmon  in  June,  and  went  to 
Scotland  for  the  grouse  in  August. 
He  read,  as  she  knew,  omnivo- 
rously. 

She  observed  with  unexplained 
regret  that  the  room  was  beauti 
fully  clean. 

At  last  Miss  Serena,  having 
ended  her  inspection,  settled  her 
self  in  one  of  a  half-dozen  tempt 
ing  easy-chairs,  picked  up  the 

[34] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

nearest  book  (a  French  novel), 
and  fell  upon  a  rather  astonishing 
scene.  A  moment  later  the  door 
opened  and  Cousin  John  appeared. 
He  was  a  perfectly  dressed  man  of 
thirty-eight,  well  built,  and  sturdy 
from  out-of-door  life. 

"  Good  heavens !  Rena,"  he 
laughed,  glancing  at  the  book, 
"you  won't  have  a  moral  left/' 

Serena  blushed.  "  I  was  about 
to  lay  it  down,  John." 

"  You  will  not  if  you  read  it 
long.  The  devil  is  apt  to  be 
amusing,  especially  the  French 
devil.  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  I 
go  to  Currituck  to-morrow,  but 
if—" 

"  Oh,  it  is  only  a  little  advice 
[35] 


A   COiMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 


that  I  want.     Now  kindly  listen  to 


me." 


Then  she  told  the  story  of  the 
ring,  and,  ending,  put  it  on  the 
table.  He  picked  it  up  laughing. 
"  I  have  heard  nothing  so  good  for 
years.  The  ravens  were  around 
this  time,  Rena.  What  a  wind 
fall !" 

"  Windfall !  I  do  not  understand 
you." 

"  Certainly.  You  never  will  al 
low  me  to  help  you ;  but  just 
now — "  he  hesitated — "let  me 
add  a  few  hundred.  I  should  waste 
it  at  Aix  or  Monte  Carlo.  Then 
you  will  have  sixteen  hundred  and 
can  have  that  summer  in  English 
cathedrals.  I  congratulate  you." 

[36] 


A  COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"I  cannot  take  your  money, 
John,  and  I  am  simply  amazed  that 
you  could  believe  that  I,  of  all  peo 
ple,  would  spend  this  man's  money 
on  self-indulgence." 

"Now,  Rena,  what  stuff!  He 
stole  that  from  some  one,  the 
scamp." 

"  I  suppose  so  ;  it  is  not  mine." 

"Great  Scott!  To  whom  does 
it,  will  it,  shall  it  belong  ?  " 

"  Not  to  me.  I  can't  give  away 
what  is  not  mine." 

"Whose  is  it,  Rena?" 

"  The  man's,  I  suppose,  or  some 
one's  from  whom  he  stole  it." 

"Then  advertise:  'On  return 
of  aporte-monnaie with  thirty-seven 
dollars  and  fifty  cents,  a  penny  of 

[37] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Washington,  date  1798,  and  a 
receipt  for  pickled  doughnuts  — ' ' 

"  Caramel  custard,  John." 

"Well,  no  matter — 'the  owner 
will  return  to  the  person  bringing 
it  back  a  diamond  ring,  value  eight 
hundred  dollars;  no  questions 
asked.  No  clergymen  need 
apply.'" 

"  You  are  rather  exasperating, 
John.  But  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  Why  not  keep  the  ring  until 
something  turns  up  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  keep  it?  Nothing 
will  turn  up  —  nothing.  It  is  a 
dreadful  responsibility,  and  I  never 
had  one  before  since —  and 
Serena  colored. 

"  Yes,  I  know,  dear  Rena,  since 
long  ago  you  said,  '  John  — ' " 

[38] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Please  not." 

"Well,  I  believe  I  promised,  and 
we  have  been  fast  friends  ever 
since." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  gently, 
"but  do  help  me  a  little." 

"  Well,  pitch  it  into  the  river." 

"That  would  be  waste,  and  you 
do  not  mean  it." 

"  Rena,  it  is  you  who  are  ex 
asperating.  Spend  it  on  Indian 


missions." 


"  I  thought  of  that,  but  it  is  not 
mine.     Can't  you  see  my  trouble?" 

"You  have  too  much  imagina 
tion." 

"  No  matter  what  I  do,  John,  I 
shall  end  by  robbing  some  one." 

"  He  will  never  know,  Rena." 

"John!" 

[39] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"Well,  spend  it,  and  leave  the 
rascal  with  a  wart  a  legacy  in  your 
will  —  eight  hundred;  that  ought 
to  settle  it." 

"  Nothing  settles  it.  If  you  had 
even  an  improper  fraction  of  a  con 
science,  John,  you  would  feel  as  I 
do." 

"  A  fraction  of  an  improper  con 
science.  I  like  that.  Damn  it, 
Rena,  you  are  incredible." 

"  John  !  I  am  sorry  I  bothered 
you.  Good-by." 

"  But,  Rena  !  " 

"  No,  I  must  go,"  and  she  went 
out.  As  he  conducted  her  to  the 
elevator,  she  turned  smilingly,  and 
said:  "John,  I  have  been  wanting 
to  say  that  for  two  days." 

[40] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"What?" 

"The  exclamation  you  used  just 


now.'1 


"  Gracious,  Rena,  what  a  dear 
you  are  !  Good-by.  I  will  send 
you  a  lot  of  ducks." 

As  she  walked  to  the  station, 
more  than  ever  perplexed,  she  said : 
"Well,  if  nothing  else  turns  up  I 
can  advertise ;  not  just  John's  ab 
surd  way.  The  ring  is  the  man's, 
not  mine.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  see 
him !  Now  there  is  nothing  left 
except  Helen  Clare.  A  woman 
will  see  this  miserable  business 
from  my  side." 


[41] 


VI 

IN  the  late  afternoon  of  an  Octo 
ber  day  she  walked  a  mile  to  her 
friend's  house.  The  widow  made 
her  welcome ;  the  children  were 
dismissed,  and,  as  they  sat  down, 
her  friend  said : 

"  Serena,  what  is  wrong  ?  You 
look  worried." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  perplexed,  dear. 
I  really  cannot  see  my  way  clear." 

"And  his  name,  dear  Rena?" 

"  I  wish  I  knew  !  " 

"What  on  earth  do  you  mean?" 

[42] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Mean  !  It  is  n't  a  man.  Yes, 
it  is  a  man." 

Miss  Serena  was  nearer  a  fit  of 
hysterics  than  she  had  ever  been  in 
all  her  placid  life.  Her  friend  took 
her  hand  and  said  very  quietly, 
"  Tell  me,  my  love." 

Then  Serena  lifted  her  dark- 
gray  eyes  and  told  how  she  had 
lost  her  purse  and  got  a  diamond 
worth  eight  hundred  dollars. 

Mrs.  Clare  exclaimed  :  "  How 
delicious  !  Have  you  it  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  am  afraid  to  leave  it 
at  home.  Here  it  is." 

Mrs.  Clare  inspected  this  queer 
find.  "  What  a  monster,  dear ! 
You  will  have  to  have  it  reset  be 
fore  you  can  wear  it." 

[43] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Wear  it,  Helen !  Wear  that 
creature's  stone  —  his  diamond  ! 
Think,  dear,  of  the  horror  of  it !  " 

"  Upon  my  word,  Rena,  if  all  the 
big  diamonds  could  talk  there  would 
be  some  tales  to  hear.  A  diamond 
cannot  perish,  and  what  queer 
scenes  they  must  have  beheld  — 
what  women,  what  men !  How 
many  times  that  diamond  may 
have  caused  murder  !  " 

"  What  horrible  imaginations, 
Helen ! " 

"  Or  turned  the  scale  against  a 
woman's  honor." 

"  My  dear  Helen  !  " 

"  And  yet  it  is  pure  and  beauti 
ful  and  innocent;  one  might  write 
the  biography  of  a  diamond." 
[44] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Serena  said:  "  You  might,  dear, 
but  if  you  were  as  frank  on  paper 
as  in  speech  your  story  would  never 
get  into  any  of  the  magazines." 

"  It  is  your  own  fault,  Rena.  It 
is  you  who  set  me  going.  Did 
ever  any  one  tell  you,  Rena,  that 
you  have  more  imagination  than  is 
good  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  not  precisely  that ;  but 
really,  dear,  to  be  serious,  this  dia 
mond  troubles  me.  It  is  not  mine. 
What  is  to  be  done  with  it  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  cried  Mrs.  Clare, 
joyously. 

"  I  knew  you  would." 

"Such  a  piece  of  good  fortune! 
Sell  it ;  sell  it  at  once.  I  have  al 
ways  wanted  to  see  you  in  one  of 

[45] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Worth's  best  gowns ;  you  have 
such  a  lovely  figure." 

Upon  this  Serena  burst  into 
tears. 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Oh,  Helen,  to  tempt  me  to  use 
what  is  not  mine  !  How  could  you  ! 
And  I  have  been  so  harassed." 

Then  Mrs,  Clare  saw  that  it  was 
indeed  serious,  and,  being  a  woman 
of  sympathetic  turn,  and  a  dear 
lover  of  this  friend,  said :  "  Yes, 
I  see ;  of  course  not.  Quite  impos 
sible  !  How  stupid  of  me !  But, 
Rena,  what  do  you  yourself  think?  " 

"  I  don't  think ;  every  one  asks 
that.  I  want  advice,  advice." 

"Well,  suppose  you  were  to  get 
a  detective  and  ask  him  to  find 

[46] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

your  man,  and  then  give  him  his 
ring." 

"But  what  if  he  stole  it!  It 
may  not  be  his  ring." 

Mrs.  Clare  felt  inclined  to  use 
something  like  the  exclamation 
employed  by  Cousin  John.  She 
refrained,  and  went  on  to  state 
that  perhaps  to  advertise  the  ring 
cautiously,  asking  for  proof  of 
ownership,  might  answer. 

Now  Serena  saw  a  little  light, 
and  said  eagerly  :  "Why,  yes ;  how 
dull  men  are  !  The  setting  has  the 
French  hall-mark.  No  one  could 
guess  that.  It  would  serve  to  find 
the  real  owner." 

"Or  the  thief,"  said  Mrs.  Clare. 
"  He  would  know." 

[47] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  I  forgot  that ;  I  really  should 
not  care.  But  I  do  not  think  he 
would  come  for  it.  He  would  con 
sider  it  a  trap.  I  must  think  about 


it." 


Mrs.  Clare  had  exhausted  her 
wisdom,  or  did  not  care  to  suggest 
that  the  thief  might  send  some  one 
else  to  claim  and  identify  the  ring. 
They  had  another  cup  of  tea,  Miss 
Vernon  assuring  her  friend  that  she 
was  the  only  person  who  had  given 
her  practical  advice.  As  to  the  rec 
tor  she  was  reticent,  being  still  a 
little  sore.  Cousin  John  had  been 
simply  absurd.  "And,  in  fact,"  she 
said,  "  Helen,  John  is  always  a 
little — well — embarrassed.  No;  I 

[48] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

should  not  say  just  that,  dear,  but 
unnatural.  I  think  it  grows  on 
him." 

Mrs.  Clare  looked  up  from  a  fu 
tile  effort  to  balance  a  teaspoon  on 
the  lip  of  a  tea-cup,  and  said :  "  Is 
n't  that  rather  droll  of  a  man  of  the 
world  like  Mr.  Winterbourne  ?  Do 
you  know,  Rena,  I  sometimes  think 
—  I  mean,  is  it  not  even  yet  pos 
sible  that  — " 

"  No,  Helen,  it  is  not.  Pardon 
my  interruption ;  and,  dear,  you 
are  rather  fond  of  going  back  to 
this  somewhat  aged  subject.  Sup 
pose  we  drop  it.  John  and  I  made 
a  friendly  contract  seven  years  ago. 
I  am  satisfied  with  my  own  life, 

[49] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

and  as  for  John,  he  is  a  confirmed 
bachelor." 

1  'That  is  a  curable  malady,  my 
dear  Rena." 

Here  Miss  Vernon  let  fall  her 
handkerchief,  and  recovered  it,  but 
not  very  promptly,  feeling,  as  she 
sat  up,  that  her  tendency  to  blush 
on  slight  occasion  was  a  habit 
which  seemed  to  be  difficult  to 
overcome.  She  said,  with  a  smile: 
"  Let  us  return  to  our  diamond, 
Helen.  I  will  think  it  over  afresh. 
I  wish  I  had  asked  John  not  to 
mention  it.  He  evidently  thought 
it  an  amusing  tale.  I  do  not." 

"  But  apart,  dear  Rena,  from 
your  quite  excessive  scruples  (oh, 
they  are  excessive),  it  is  a  thing 

[50] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

any  one  might  be  apt  to  relate. 
I  should." 

"  But  you  will  not." 

"  No,  of  course  not.  Ah,  here 
are  the  boys." 


[51] 


M 


VII 

ISS  VERNON  walked  home 
ward  in  the  twilight,  feeling 
that  in  the  multitude  of  counselors 
there  is  not  always  wisdom.  Were 
they  right,  after  all?  Had  she 
dealt  with  her  conscience  so  as  to 
make  it  useless  in  as  small  an  affair 
as  this  ?  Or  were  these  people  all 
wrong  ?  And  what  should  she  do  ? 
Just  what  she  had  feared  did 
happen.  Cousin  John  wrote : 

DEAR  RENA  :  I  have  your  note,  but, 
unluckily,  I  could  not  resist  telling  the 

[52] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

story  to  a  man  at  the  club  last  night. 
Upon  my  word,  you  are  quite  need 
lessly  sensitive.  Lock  up  the  ring  and 
wait  until  I  come  back  in  November. 
Time  is  a  good  counselor.  In  a  week 
or  two,  if  you  drop  the  matter,  some 
thing  will  turn  up. 

Yours  always, 

J.  W. 

P.S.  As  soon  as  I  heard  from  you  I 
wrote  the  man  a  note  and  asked  him 
not  to  tell  the  story ;  but  who  could 
resist  such  a  comic  opportunity  ?  Par 
don  me. 

John  assured  her  that  something 
would  turn  up.  Something  did  turn 
up  ;  several  things  turned  up.  Af 
ter  days  of  distracting  thought 
Serena  wrote  in  her  diary : 

[53] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

At  last  I  seem  to  see  my  way.     I 

shall  advertise.     If  in months  no 

one  appears  to  claim  the  ring  I  shall 
feel  free  to  use  it  for  charity. 

It  will  be  seen  that  Miss  Vernon 
was  unable  to  set  down  the  number 
of  months.  Twenty-one  years  of 
undisputed  ownership  make  good  a 
land  claim,  as  she  knew.  This  did 
not  require  an  immediate  decision. 
She  sent  her  maid  with  a  carefully 
considered  advertisement  to  the  of 
fice  of  the  "  Day-Book,"  a  journal 
which  she  took  chiefly  because  the 
name  pleased  her,  and  because  it 
had  no  illustrations  and  no  Sunday 
issue.  This  was  her  advertisement: 

Found,  October  9,  a  diamond  ring. 
Absolute  proof  of  ownership  required. 

[54] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Letter  to  S.  V.,  at  this  office,  must  ac 
curately  describe  setting  and  fix  value. 

Here  Serena  hesitated,  and  fi 
nally  added : 

No  reward  will  be  asked. 

With  a  mind  now  at  ease,  Miss 
Vernon  invited  Dr.  Saffron  and 
Mrs.  Clare  to  dine  two  days  later, 
and  in  the  interval  gave  up  her 
mind  to  the  study  of  an  English 
church  controversy  as  to  the  use  of 
incense,  and  whether  the  number 
of  candles  on  the  altar  should  be 
odd  or  even.  This,  with  what  she 
meant  for  a  triumphant  menu,  oc 
cupied  her  for  a  time.  The  next 
day  letters  began  to  come.  It  was 

[55] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

like  the  answers  to  a  newspaper 
charade.  Before  the  day  of  the 
dinner  she  had  three  hundred  and 
twenty-one  letters.  All  made  more 
or  less  elaborate  guesses  at  plain 
gold,  enamel,  or  pearl  setting,  and 
so  on  endlessly.  All  tried  a  shot 
at  the  value  of  the  ring,  and  sev 
eral  came  near  enough.  On  the 
afternoon  of  her  dinner  she  went 
to  the  city  to  get  chocolate  bonbons 
for  dessert.  Returning  at  dusk  in 
the  trolley,  she  heard  two  shop 
girls  talking. 

"  It  must  be  the  same.  Just 
look  here.  Read  that.  The  '  Her 
ald  '  has  two  just  lovely  articles 
about  it.  You  had  n't  seen  it  ? 

[56] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Why,  where  have  you  been? 
Everybody  Js  talking  about  it,  and 
in  the  '  Day-Book '  there  in  an  ad 
vertisement  of  the  ring ;  it  must 
be  the  same  ring.  Seven  of  us 
wrote  letters  to  describe  it  —  just 
for  fun." 

"And  suppose  you  had  hit  on 
the  right  description  ?  "  said  her 
companion. 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  awful  fun ; 
but  law  !  one  could  n't  take  it." 

"Oh,  no.  The  thief,  he  might 
describe  it ;  but  he  'd  be  afraid." 

"Yes,  but  he  might  find  out  the 
house  and  burgle  it.  If  I  was  her 
I  'd  be  dreadful  scared.  Think  I  'd 


move." 


[57] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Serena  Vernon  grew  cold  with 
anticipative  fear.  "  This  is  John's 
doing  ;  how  could  he  !  " 

"The  advertisement  does  n't 
give  her  name,"  said  girl  number 
one.  "  I  wish  I  was  her.  I  'd 
soon  settle  it,  and  I  would  n't  be 
goose  enough  to  cackle  all  over 
creation.  Oh,  the  '  Herald  '  says 
her  name  is  —  oh,  I  forget.  It 's  a 
real  romantic  name,  like  it  was  out 
of  a  novel  —  oh,  Serena  Vernon. 
I  '11  lend  you  the  paper.  Don't 
lose  it.  Here  's  my  station." 

Miss  Vernon  sat  up,  a  represen 
tative  statue  of  all  the  outraged 
modesties  of  a  retiring  gentle 
woman.  "  Oh,  John,"  she  mur 
mured,  "I  hate  you.  What  shall 

[58] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

I  do  ? "  She  bought  the  "  Herald," 
and  read  with  increasing  misery, 
in  huge  head-lines  : 

ROMANTICALLY  AMAZING 
INCIDENT 

WAS   IT  A  TENDER  ATTENTION   TO 

THE   LADY? 

WAS   HE   REALLY  A   PICKPOCKET? 
WHAT  WILL   SHE  DO  WITH   IT? 

A  gentleman  sits  by  a  lady  in  a  trol 
ley.  He  is  said  to  have  stolen  her 
porte-monnaie  from  her  bag,  and  in 
doing  so  dropped  in  it  a  diamond  ring 
valued  at  three  thousand  dollars.  Loss 
of  purse  discovered  on  her  return  home." 
Ring  found  at  bottom  of  her  bag. 

The  heroine  of  this  adventure  is  Miss 
Serena  Vernon,  a  lady  about  forty-one 

[59] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

years  of  age,  well  known  in  society  at 
Denham.  We  hope  to  print  her  pho 
tograph  to-morrow,  with  further  par 
ticulars.  Was  he  a  thief?  If  so,  the 
advertisement  in  yesterday's  <(  Day- 
Book"  may  be  an  effort  to  induce  the 
man  to  call  for  his  ring.  A  rather  fee 
ble  feminine  device;  or  is  there  some 
tender  sentiment  in  the  background  ? 

Serena  was  half  a  mile  past  her 
home  when  she  ceased  re-reading 
this  agreeable  article  and  left  the 
car.  What  could  she  do  ?  She 
rang  her  bell,  and,  entering,  found 
a  young  man  on  a  chair  in  the  little 
hall.  He  rose. 

"  Miss  Vernon,  I  believe  ?  " 
"  I  am  Miss  Vernon.     What  is 
it?" 

[60] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  I  represent  the  '  Daily  Critic.' 
I  want  a  few  particulars  in  regard 
to  the  astounding  incident  of  the 
diamond  ring." 

"Sir,"  said  Miss  Vernon,  "  this 
is  an  impertinence.  What  have 
you  to  do  with  my  private  affairs  ?  " 

"  Then  it  was  true  ?  Thank  you, 
ma'am.  Any  further  facts  would 
gratify  the  public." 

For  a  moment  the  well-bred  gen 
tlewoman  was  struck  dumb  with 
astonishment.  "  Will  you  be  so 
good  as  to  leave  my  house  ?  "  and 
she  approached  the  hall  door. 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  Then  you  don't 
board.  You  live  alone." 

"  Leave  my  house." 

"  But,  ma'am,  is  it  true  that  the 
[61] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

gentleman  is  known  to  you?  Or 
is  it  true  that  he  has  returned  the 
purse  and  only  kept  a  —  " 

"  Will  you  go  !  "  cried  Miss  Ver- 
non. 

"  But,  ma'am  —  excuse  me, 
ma'am,  the  public  is  interested. 
Why  not  give  us  the  real  story 
and  let  us  contradict  that  nonsense 
in  the  'Herald.'" 

"  Will  you  go  !  "  said  Miss  Ver- 
non,  uor,  or  —  "  She  was  at  her 
wits'  end.  "  Shall  I,  must  I  call  the 
dog?  Towser  !  Towser!"  she  cried. 

She  had  a  fine  fear  of  dogs,  big 
or  little,  and,  needless  to  say,  pos 
sessed  none. 

"  Certainly,  ma'am ;  sorry  to 
have  intruded." 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Well,  go,  then." 

Never  before  in  her  life  had  she 
been  so  abrupt  to  man  or  woman. 
He  went  out,  and  paused  under  the 
next  electric  light  to  make  a  note 
of  her  apparent  age  and  costume. 


VIII 

SERENA    entered  her   little  li 
brary,    and,   throwing    herself 
into  a  chair,  sat  twisting  her  gloves, 
angry  and  miserable.     "  Oh  for  a 
man  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

Here  she  was  still  sitting  when 
Mrs.  Clare  and  Dr.  Saffron  ap 
peared.  Serena,  hastily  regaining 
her  composure,  rose  as  her  friends 
entered,  and  excused  herself  for 
having  been  late  in  returning  from 
the  city.  The  doctor,  in  turn,  apol 
ogized.  He  had  not  replied  to  her 

[64] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

note  of  invitation  until  two  hours 
ago,  as  a  consultation  had  called 
him  away,  and  he  had  been  absent 
three  days.  Her  invitations  to 
dine  answered  themselves.  When 
were  they  ever  refused  ?  There 
was  a  certain  harmony  in  the  dress, 
face,  and  figure  of  this  complacent 
little  gentleman,  whose  self-as 
surance  carried  everywhere  a  com 
forting  sense  of  belief  in  his 
competence  to  deal  with  all  human 
ills.  An  underestimate  of  the  diffi 
culty  of  the  most  difficult  of  pro 
fessions,  and  an  overestimate  of 
Roderick  Saffron,  had  served,  with 
rather  too  sympathetic  manners,  to 
win  for  him  a  large  practice  and 
to  make  of  him  a  general  favor- 

[65] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

ite.  Children  liked  him  ;  mothers 
adored  him ;  and  if  men  liked  or 
trusted  him  less  completely  it  was 
of  small  moment  in  general  prac 
tice,  where  it  is  the  verdict  of 
women  which  decides  the  fortunes 
of  a  doctor. 

Mrs.  Clare  glanced  at  her  friend's 
half- mended  disorder  of  face,  and 
said  :  "  Don't  hurry,  dear.  I  will 
go  up-stairs  with  you.  The  doctor 
will  excuse  me." 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied. 

They  had  been  gone  a  minute 
when  the  maid  appeared  and  told 
the  doctor  that  two  persons,  men, 
were  in  the  entry,  insisting  on  see 
ing  Miss  Vernon.  Would  he  speak 
to  them  ?  She  had  said  her  mis- 
[66] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

tress  was  engaged.  They  said  they 
would  wait.  They  would  not  go 
away.  The  doctor  went  out,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  came  back  appa 
rently  amused.  When  the  ladies 
returned,  he  said : 

"  My  dear  Miss  Serena,  we  have 
had  two  reporters  here.  I  saw 
them.  They  had  some  supremely 
ridiculous  tale  about  a  diamond ; 
one  man  wanted  your  photograph. 
I  simply  told  them  the  tale  they 
had  heard  was  not  true ;  it  was 
most  absurd.  And  you  may  ima 
gine  what  I  said  as  to  a  photo 
graph.  I  have  not  the  honor  to 
possess  one  myself.  They  said 
the  story  should  be  contradicted 
to-morrow,  and  went  away." 

[67] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  They  went  away  !  "  said  Miss 
Vernon.  "And  you  told  them  it 
was  not  true — not  true!  " 

"Yes;  they  were  a  trifle  obsti 
nate,  but  these  fellows  are  so  used 
to  being  received  with,  may  I  say, 
rudeness  and  disgust,  that  a  little 
civility  always  disarms  them.  You 
may  be  quite  at  your  ease.  They 
will  contradict  the  story." 

"  But  I  am  not  at  all  at  my  ease, 
and  it  is  true," said  Serena.  Where 
upon  she  related  the  facts  to  her 
astonished  physician.  "  What  will 
they  think  of  me?" 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I  have  inno 
cently  fibbed  for  you,  and  a  very 
good  thing,  too.  But  pardon  me 
if  I  ask  what  you  mean  to  do 
[68] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

about  the  ring.  Had  I  been  at 
home  you  no  doubtwould  have  done 
me  the  honor  to  ask  my  advice." 

Mrs.  Clare  smiled  unworded  com 
ment.  "  Give  it  now,"  she  said. 

The  doctor  was  by  habit  inclined 
to  learn  what  form  of  advice  would 
be  agreeable  before  venturing  to 
restate  it  in  his  own  words.  He 
hesitated,  and  then  said :  "To  know 
what  you  have  thought  or  done  in 
this  strange  affair  would  reinforce 
my  decision  with  knowledge." 

"It  is  too  late,"  said  Mrs.  Clare. 
"  Our  friend  has  advertised  for  the 
owner  of  the  diamond." 

"  I  could  have  predicted  Miss 
Vernon's  course  from  my  long  ac 
quaintance  with  her  character." 

[69] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Mrs.  Clare  was  delighted.  She, 
too,  had  been  silently  predictive, 
but  not  as  to  her  friend. 

"  The  thief  will  not  come,"  added 
the  doctor. 

"  Oh,  I  hope  he  will, "said  Serena. 
"  No,  I  hope  he  will  not.  I  want 
the  real  owner  to  claim  it.  I  have 
had  a  bushel  of  letters.  Suppose 
no  one  conies?  What  am  I  to 
do?" 

"  There  is  our  village  hospital," 
ventured  the  doctor. 

"You  are  as  bad  as  my  rector," 
said  Serena,  smiling. 

"Let  us  wait  a  little,"  said  Mrs. 
Clare.  She  still  had  hopes  of  see 
ing  her  friend  in  one  of  Worth's 
gowns.  "At  the  worst,  Rena,"  she 

[70] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

added,  "  you  can  give  it  to  me.  I 
will  put  it  away  for  Harry's  wife, 
and  as  he  is  now  only  six  years 
old,  the  question  would  be  ethically 
settled  by  the  time  he  is,  say,  twen 
ty-eight." 

"  How  ingeniously  proper,  how 
judicial !  "  said  the  doctor. 

" Thanks,  Helen,"  said  Serena; 
"  there  is  something  in  that.  I  think 
Solomon  must  have  owed  his  wis 
dom  to  the  numberless  ladies  of 
his  household." 

"  Yes,  if  wisdom  be  the  child  of 
experience,"  laughed  Mrs.  Clare. 

The  doctor  made  a  mental  record 
of  Miss  Vernon's  compliment  to  the 
wits  of  woman  for  future  use,  when 
it  might  be  desirable  to  explain  his 

[71] 


A    COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

suave  compliance  with  the  views  of 
some  too  resolute  mother. 

"Read  no  papers  for  a  week," 
said  Helen  Clare.  "  That  is  my 
advice." 

"The  '  Churchman '  or  the  '  Guar 
dian  '  might  be  safe,"  said  the 
doctor. 

Serena  smiled,  and  they  went  out 
to  dinner. 


[72] 


IX 

THE  dinner  was  an  unusual  suc 
cess,  and  Miss  Vernon  awak 
ened  next  morning  enough  at  ease 
to  read  a  dozen  more  letters  with 
some  sense  of  amusement. 

The  next  day  two  women  re 
porters  called,  and  an  evening 
paper  printed  as  a  portrait  of  Miss 
Vernon  a  full-length  of  a  variety 
actress,  twice  divorced. 

A  little  later,  the  cook  was  offered 
a  dollar  for  particulars  of  Miss  Ver- 
non's  life.  Serena  began  to  think 
of  moving. 

[73] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

In  the  afternoon  the  rector  called, 
and  how  soothing,  how  satisfactory 
it  was  that  the  "  Globe"  had  con 
tradicted  the  extravagant  state 
ments  of  the  "  Her  aid"! 

Miss  Vernon  was  unable  to  feel 
quite  satisfied,  for,  after  all,  the 
story  was  true.  When  asked  by 
the  Rev.  Angelo  King  how  it 
came  to  be  denied  by  one  of  her 
own  household,  she  explained  the 
doctor's  share  in  the  matter,  the 
rector  interjecting  at  intervals, 
-Really!  Really!"  At  last  he 
said :  "  How  painful  to  have  been 
put  in  the  position  of  appearing  to 
sustain  a  deviation  from  truth ! " 

Miss  Vernon  felt  that  she  was 
overstating  her  disapproval.  She 
[74] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

held  in  the  background  behind  her 
conscience  a  feeling  that  now  the 
thing  would  cease  to  excite  public 
comment.  She  said  as  much. 

"Thedoctor  has  clearly  bungled," 
said  the  rector —  "in  fact,  has  as 
sumed  to  know  what  he  did  not. 
But,  my  dear  Miss  Serena,  if  Dr. 
Saffron  had  a  too  childlike  confi 
dence  in  himself,  we  know  that  out 
of  the  mouths  of  babes  cometh  wis 
dom."  He  was  so  well  pleased 
with  this  that  he  repeated  it  for  the 
benefit  of  Mrs.  Clare,  who  came  in 
as  he  spoke. 

Serena  saw  his  satisfaction  at 
this  use  of  biblical  quotation.  She 
did  not  like  it,  but  was  tardily 
amused,  knowing  that  her  rector 

[75] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

greatly  disliked  the  doctor.  Mrs. 
Clare  knew  why,  but  had  always 
laughingly  declined  to  explain  to 
Serena.  After  this  they  discussed 
the  Montana  mission,  when  the  rec 
tor  at  last  rose.  He  said :  "  Has 
a  way  opened  to  you — I  mean  about 
the  diamond  ?  " 

She  said,  "  No,"  but  then  apolo 
gized  so  gently  for  what  she  called 
her  abrupt  treatment  of  his  advice 
that  he  went  away  seeing  the  rere- 
dos  a  little  more  distinctly. 

Then  for  a  time  the  papers  ceased 
from  troubling,  the  letters  came 
no  more,  and  there  was  a  lull  in 
the  affair  of  the  diamond  ring. 
Serena  put  it  in  her  strong  box  in 

[76] 


A    COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

the  bank,  and  had  additional  bolts 
placed  on  her  first-floor  windows. 
The  burglar  still  haunted  her  un 
comfortably.  Soon  after,  a  letter 
came  from  a  friend  in  Santa  Bar 
bara,  which  much  annoyed  her. 
She  showed  it  and  the  clipping  it 
inclosed  to  Mrs.  Clare.  On  this 
Mrs.  Clare  asked  her  if  she  knew 
the  game  called  Russian  scandal. 
Serena  had  played  it  when  young. 
"  Well,  my  dear,  the  newspapers 
play  it  all  the  time.  It  would  seem 
easy  to  copy  a  paragraph  accu 
rately  ;  but  here  you  see  what  hap 
pens.  This  fine  tale  has  gone  over 
all  the  land,  and  this  is  the  result." 
She  read  aloud : 

[77] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

" '  A  very  beautiful  Quaker  lady  in 
Durham,  Pennsylvania,  was  followed 
into  a  car  by  a  gentleman.  He  let  fall 
into  her  bag  a  diamond  ring  valued  at 
four  thousand  dollars.  A  romantic  ter 
mination  is  probably  to  follow  this  un 
usual  form  of  wooing.  It  is  said  he 
took  her  purse  when  he  dropped  his 
ring  into  her  bag.  Perhaps  he  wanted 
a  gage  d*  amour* —  Santa  Barbara 
Journal. 

"  Another  account  says  the  brooch  — 
or  was  it  a  ring  ? —  will  reappear  in  the 
form  of  a  reredos  in  the  church  at  Dur 
ham,  and  that  she  has  refused  the  gen 
tleman  and  also  refused  to  return  his 
ring. 

"  Serena,  that   rector   has  been 
gabbling ;  observe  the  reredos." 
"Well,"  said    Serena,   "it    does 
[78] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

seem  only  too  likely.  Burn  it,  dear. 
Men  are  all  alike." 

"They  are  all  alike,  are  they? 
Even  John  ?  " 

"  Yes,  all.  This  is  my  new  tea, 
Helen.  Try  it." 

On  Saturday,  a  week  later,  Miss 
Vernon  received  a  letter  from 
Tampa,  Florida. 

DEAR  RENA:  The  ducks  were  not 
at  Currituck,  and  why  I  came  hither  I 
do  not  know,  except  that  one  must  go 
somewhere.  I  have  been  eating  hum 
ble-pie  because  of  my  folly,  and,  my 
dear  cousin,  it  never  agrees  with  me. 
I  have  read  those  blank  papers,  and 
the  denial,  and  the  advertisement. 
What  a  coil !  I  am  sorry  if,  as  is 
stated,  you  authorized  the  contradiction. 

[79] 


A   COMEDY   OF  CONSCIENCE 

It  was  not  like  you.  And  who  is  the  re 
ported  Mr.  Butterworth  who  was  inter 
viewed  and  represented  you  ?  I  did 
not  suspect  you  of  this  form  of  dupli 
city  !  Never  ask  a  newspaper  to  say  it 
has  lied,  or,  except  in  politics,  to  say 
another  paper  has  lied.  My  poor  Rena, 
if  I  were  to  cowhide  this  fellow  he  would 
only  contrive  worse  things,  and  would 
swear,  what  is  true,  that  the  main  fact 
is  correct ;  and,  really,  to  lick  a  reporter 
for  coarse-minded  misuse  of  facts  would 
be  valueless,  or  involve  a  too  chronic 
use  of  this  ultimate  resort.  After  all, 
I  am  the  one  to  blame.  I  am  coming 
back  at  once.  Do  not  move  further  in 
the  matter. 

Your  affectionate  cousin, 

JOHN. 

"Well,"  said   Serena,  aloud,  "if 
[80] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

anything  were  needed  to  make  it 
all  seem  worse,  this  would.  First 
John  talks,  then  my  doctor  talks, 
then  my  rector  talks;  and  they 
think  we  gossip." 

That  night  Serena  wrote  in  her 
diary : 

Yes,  I  do  believe  I  have  been  wicked 
enough  to  want  to  have  some  one  suffer 
for  this  outrage  —  some  one  besides 
poor,  innocent  me,  who  have  lived  in 
what  Helen  calls  a  cocoon  of  privacy. 
Alas  !  I  think  I  might  once  have  mar 
ried,  but  the  unpleasant  publicity  of  it 
all  seemed  so  shocking,  and  now  I  am 
afficheed  like  an  opera- dancer.  It  does 
seem  too  atrocious.  I  shall  never  for 
give  you,  John,  never. 

Miss  Serena  in  all  her  gentle  life 
[81] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

had  never  so  hated  man  or  woman 
as  to  need  to  forgive.  John  was 
safe  enough.  The  following  Mon 
day  she  wrote  in  her  diary : 

The  local  express  brought  a  pile  of 
late  English  journals.  How  thoughtful 
of  John  !  Also  by  mail  came  an  article 
blue-penciled  —  why  blue  ?  —  from 
"Views  and  Reviews,  a  Journal  in  the 
Interest  of  the  Past  and  the  Future  of 
the  Ulterior  Womanhood. "  That  seems 
elaborate.  The  article  is  on  my  dia 
mond —  I  mean  on  what  John  calls  the 
"Great  Diamond  Trust." 

"This  curious  story  has  its  moral 
aspects.  If  the  lady  had  not  been  so 
silly  as  to  be  needlessly  civil  to  a  man 
she  would  not  have  been  in  her  present 
conscientious  quandary." 

How  does  any  one  know  that  I  have 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

a  conscience,  or  was  civil,  or  am  in  a 
quandary  ? 

The  next  heading  is,  "  The  Anti- 
Marriage  League,"  and,  by  way  of 
contrast,  an  advertisement  of  the 
"  Company  to  Insure  Permanence  in 
the  Marriage  State." 

Good  gracious  !  it  is  needed.  I  sup 
pose  there  would  be  an  examination  on 
looks,  temper,  and  money.  I  thought 
to  show  it  to  John.  I  do  not  think  I 
shall.  It  sounds  too  like  John.  I  do 
not  mean  that  he  is  not  refined.  Mem. : 
The  use  of  a  diary  is  a  temptation  to  be 
foolish. 

Tuesday.  Delicious  bunch  of  snipe 
from  John,  and  a  telegram.  He  is  on 
his  way  North.  What  nonsense  to 
wire  !  How  easily  one's  language  be 
comes  debased  !  Mem. :  To  avoid  this 
word. 

[83] 


X 

ON  Wednesday  morning  that 
which  ever  since  the  adver 
tisement  was  unlocked  for,  but 
probable,  did  occur.  As  Serena 
turned  into  the  lane  which  led  to 
her  house,  a  slight,  quiet,  well- 
dressed  man  crossed  the  street, 
took  off  his  hat,  and  said:  "  I  have 
the  honor  to  address  Miss  Vernon  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  name,  but  if  you 
are  a  reporter  —  " 

"I  am  not,  madam,  a  reporter. 
I  am  Charles  Lytton  of  Sedgely, 

[84] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Alabama.  I  am  the  owner  of  the 
diamond  which  I  see  has  been, 
must  have  been,  the  source  of  anxi 
ety  and  annoyance.  The  news 
papers  have,  I  grieve  to  say  —  " 

Miss  Vernon  was  on  her  guard. 
The  man's  tones  lacked  that  indefi 
nable  something  in  the  way  of  in 
flection  which  should  have  gone 
with  what  seemed  to  be  carefully 
chosen  language  —  a  little  too  care 
ful  ;  nor  had  he  the  accent  of  the 
South.  She  interrupted  him. 

"Come  in,"  she  said,  quite  reso 
lute,  but  also  somewhat  nervous. 

He  followed  her  into  the  library 
and  cast  a  glance  of  swift  survey 
about  the  room.  They  sat  down, 
Serena  near  the  bell. 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  I  lost,  I  should  say  my  wife 
lost,  this  ring,  her  mother's  mar 
riage  gift.  It  was  stolen  on  a 
French  steamer,  the  Gascoigne,  last 
year.  Of  course  it  is  very  dear 
to  me.  You  will  pardon  my  emo 
tion." 

Serena  pardoned  the  emotion, 
but  reflected  on  the  size  of  the  de 
parted  Mrs.  Lytton's  finger. 

"  Here  is  the  description  of  the 
ring,"  he  continued;  "I  have 
written  it  out." 

Serena  read  and  re-read  it.  It 
was  accurate.  She  was  clear  at 
once  that  either  this  was  the  true 
owner,  or,  as  was  probable,  that  he 
represented  the  thief.  But  how  to 
be  sure  ? 

[86] 


'And  now,  madam,  .  .  .  have  the  kindness 
to  give  me  my  ring.'  " 


A   COMEDY   OF    CONSCIENCE 

"And  now,  madam,"  he  said, 
not  waiting  for  her  decision,  "  have 
the  kindness  to  give  me  my  ring." 

She  made  no  reply  except  to 
look  up  and  then  once  more  to  con 
sider  the  memoranda.  These  were 
written  on  a  rather  soiled  half-sheet 
of  ruled  note-paper.  This  caused 
Serena  to  have  a  prejudicial  dis 
trust  of  which  she  was  conscious 
and  a  little  ashamed.  Time  was 
now  what  she  most  wanted.  She 
said:  "It  appears  to  be  —  I  have 
no  doubt  it  is  all  correct.1  The 
ring  is  in  the  bank." 

"  I  have  to  leave  town  to-day," 
he  said.  "  If  you  will  go  with  me 

1  Diary :  "  This  was  not  quite  true.     I  am  sorry  I 
said  it." 

[89] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

to  the  bank  you  will  add  to  my 
obligations." 

Miss  Vernon  replied  with  calm 
ness  :  "I  fear  that  in  so  large  a 
matter  I  must  ask  for  further  infor 
mation,  and,  pardon  me,  for  some 
personal  identification." 

Then  he  saw  that  he  had  lost 
the  game.  He  rose.  "  I  should 
think  that  needless.  However,  I 
will  wait  over  two  days"  ("Why 
two*? "  thought  Serena),  "  and  on 
Friday  will  return  with  my  friend 
Mr.  Seeley,  the  cashier  of  the  Me 
chanics'  Trust.  Will  that  answer  ? 
And  may  we  set  twelve  o'clock? 
Do  you  know  Mr.  Seeley  ?  " 

"I  do  not,"  she  returned.  "I 
shall  be  here  at  that  hour." 

"  I  must  leave  at  one  forty-five. 

[90] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Will  you  kindly  have  the  ring 
ready?" 

If  he  did  not  come  the  ring  would 
be  safe.  If  he  did,  Mr.  Seeley,  a 
well-known  citizen,  would  be  pres 
ent,  the  man  vouched  for,  and  she 
relieved.  At  all  events,  John 
should  be  there.  All  this  passed 
through  her  mind  before  she  re 
peated,  "Yes,  the  ring  shall  be 
here,  and  I  shall  be  most  pleased 
to  get  rid  of  it.  Good  morning  "  ; 
and  he  went  away. 

A  little  later  came  Mrs.  Clare,  to 
whom  Miss  Vernon  related  the  in 
terview,  adding:  "And  now, 
Helen,  how  does  it  strike  you  ?  " 

"Was  he  possibly  a  reporter,  a 
gossip  burglar  ?  " 

"  Goodness !  Helen,  no.    I  should 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

prefer   a   real   burglar.     Tell    me, 

dear,  you  do  not  think  he  was  that ; 

that  would  —  " 

"  No,  I  do  not.     But  he  will  not 

come.     Do  you  know  Mr.  Seeley, 

dear?     I  do." 

"  No  ;  but  in  any  case  John  will 

be  here." 

"  Why  is  not  John  always  here, 

or  you  there  ?  " 

"  I  wish  you  would  not,  Helen." 

"Would  not  what?" 

"  You  know  well  enough." 

"You  will  marry  him,  Rena." 

"No,  never." 

"  Then  he  will  marry  you." 

"  It  is  too  late.     I  am  —  " 

"  My  dear,  have  the  kindness  to 

consult   that   oracle,    the   looking- 

[92] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

glass.     You  dear,  sweet,  shy,  silly 

creature !       How   pretty   you    are 

when  you  blush  !  " 
"  Don't,  please." 
"Well,  as  you  like.     I  must  go." 
At  dusk  came  a  note  from  Mrs. 

Clare. 

I  have  seen  Frank  Seeley.  He  does 
not  know  your  man. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  said  Se 
rena.  "  Why  did  I  not  think  of 
this  ?  How  clever  she  is  !  " 


[93] 


XI 

WHEN     John     Winterbourne 
arrived  next  day,  he  said : 
"  Come  for  a  drive,  Serena.     Don't 
talk  now.     Get  a  warm  wrap.     My 
dog-cart  is  on  the  avenue." 

When  they  were  far  out  in  the 
country,  he  said:  "  Here  is  an 
apology  from  that  editorial  scamp 
to  whom  my  friend  told  the  story. 
He  regrets,  etc. ;  will  make  it  all 
right  in  to-morrow's  paper.  I  said 
no,  he  must  hold  his  tongue;  that 
was  all  I  asked." 

[94] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Thank  you,  John.  That  was 
right.  I  must  have  no  more  of  it." 

"  Of  course,  Rena,  the  editor 
was  out  of  town.  He  always  is 
when  these  things  happen." 

"Are  there  no  decent  journals, 
John?" 

"  Certainly.  The  'Day-Book' 
and  the  *  Episcopal  Recorder.'  Oh, 
others,  too,  Rena.  Don't  look  so 
grave.  What  a  glorious  day !  But 
what  of  the  diamond  ?  " 

Then  she  told  him  of  her  latest 
interview.  It  was  now  his  turn  to 
look  grave. 

"  Rena,  the  man  came  from  your 
thief.  He  did  not  expect  to  suc 
ceed.  He  will  not  return  on  Fri 
day,  at  least  not  at  the  time  set. 

[95] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

He  wanted  to  be  sure  that  you 
would  have  the  ring  in  your  house. 
I  say,  Rena,  you  have  a  spare 
room  ?  " 

-Yes." 

"  Will  you  take  me  in  for  a  day 
or  two  ?  " 

Rena  hesitated  for  an  instant,  and 
said:  "Yes,  John,  of  course.  But 
what  is  it  ?  What  do  you  fear  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know.  I  will  speak 
to  the  police." 

"  No  ;  oh,  no  !  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  He  will  think  I  set  a  trap  for 
him." 

"And  why  not?" 

"  But,  John,  it  will  be  in  the 
papers  again,  and  I  shall  have  to 

[96] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

go  to  court,  and  more  reporters 
will  come,  and,  after  all,  I  shall  still 
have  the  ring,  and  there  we  are  just 
where  we  began." 

"  Rena,  you  want  a  man  to  take 
care  of  you.  You  wear  too  tight 
shoes  on  your  conscience.  You  are 
a  moral  tenderfoot." 

-A  what,  John?" 

"Too  much  conscience,   Rena." 

4 'You  are  right,  I  dare  say  —  I 
mean  about  my  conscience." 

"  Possibly  it  has  had  so  little  sin 
to  attend  to  that  it  has  become  too 
—  well,  too  concentrated." 

"  What  nonsense,  John  !  " 

"  Cousin  Rena,  are  you  past  see 
ing  the  fun  of  the  Diamond  Trust  ?  " 

"  Pretty  nearly." 
[97] 


A    COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Best  get  all  the  amusement  out 
of  it  you  can." 

"  There  is  n't  anything  new, 
John,  is  there  ?  "  She  was  alarmed. 

"  No,  only  pure  fun.  I  cut  out 
a  few  paragraphs  from  Southern 
papers.  Like  to  look  at  them, 
Rena?" 

"  No,  I  should  not." 

"  But,  Rena,  there  is  one  — just 
take  the  reins ;  they  '11  go  along." 

"  I  shall  do  no  such  thing." 

"Well,  here  it  is.  I  forgot  — 
stuck  it  in  my  waistcoat  pocket." 

Miss  Vernon  took  it  reluctantly, 
saying :  "  I  shall  read  this  and  no 
more.  Helen  Clare  says  it  is  a 
dreadful  thing  to  come  into  the 
changeless  peace  of  life  like  mine. 

[98] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

It  was  so  prettily  worded,  but  when 
she  went  on  to  say  such  an  event 
was  disheveling,  that  did  seem  to 
me  an  odd  use  of  English." 

"  Rather,"  said  John,  touching 
up  the  leader.  "  Read  it  aloud. 
How  could  it  have  got  so  mixed 
up?" 

Serena  read : 

"  A  well-known  society  woman  in  Rah- 
way  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to  New 
York  daily  on  a  trolley.  She  observed 
a  gentleman  who  was  always  on  the 
same  car  with  her.  He  watched  her  so 
constantly  as  to  embarrass  her,  contriv 
ing  always,  soon  or  late,  to  sit  beside 
her.  On  several  occasions  she  found  at 
the  end  of  her  journey  that  jewels  had 
been  placed  in  the  reticule  she  carried. 

[99] 


A   COMEDY  OF  CONSCIENCE 

One  was  a  diamond  worth  a  thousand 
dollars;  once  it  was  a  pearl  ring;  once 
an  opal  ring.  She  is  sure  these  were 
put  in  her  bag  by  the  gentleman  above 
mentioned.  When  she  ceased  to  travel 
on  this  line,  every  second  day  some 
jewel  was  left  at  the  house  by  mail  or 
by  express.  Miss  Varnum  ["  Gra 
cious  ! "  exclaimed  Serena,  "  Var 
num!  "]  is  the  lady's  name.  Strangely 
enough,  under  this  opulent  persecution 
["  '  Opulent'  is  a  fine  adjective,  Rena," 
interposed  John]  Miss  Varnum's  nerves 
have  given  way,  and  she  is  now  about 
to  consult  the  distinguished  neurologist, 
Dr.  von  Neuron. 

"  That  is  certainly  worthy  of  the 
newspaper  novelist,"  said  Serena. 
"  It  would  be  curious  to  see  how 
[100] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

from  the  *  Herald's '  horrid  account 
it  got  by  degrees  to  this." 

"  It  gives  one  a  certain  disre 
spect  for  history,  Rena.  I  won't 
ask  you  to  read  the  others.  They 
would  curdle  your  young  blood. 
Well,  I  will  come  on  Friday,  and, 
by  the  by,  I  had  a  day  at  Currituck. 
You  will  get  your  ducks  this  even 
ing.  Don't  overcook  them." 

"  As  if  I  could  allow  such  a  thing, 
John!  " 

"  I  told  Tom  to  leave  with  them 
a  case  of  Gorton  Vieux.  I  have  just 
got  my  importation.  Don't  drink 
it  for  two  months." 

"  John,  that  kind  of  thing  must 
stop.  You  know  —  " 

"  It  never  will  stop." 

[101] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  You  nearly  ran  into  that 
wagon." 

11  I  did ;  it  was  your  nonsense, 
Rena.  You  did  not  stir.  You 
are  the  least  nervous  woman  I 
ever  drove." 

"Do  you  drive  many — many 
women  ?  " 

"  Several,"  said  John. 

Serena  was  silent,  and  then  said : 

"  How  the  leaves  are  falling !  " 

"Too  fast,"  said  John. 

Serena  meditated. 


[102] 


XII 

JOHN'S  bag  came  that  evening, 
and  the  wine  and  the  ducks. 
He  followed  them  at  noon,  in  time 
for  luncheon,  on  Friday.  No  visi 
tors  appeared.  In  the  afternoon  he 
lighted  a  cigar  and  went  out  at  the 
back  of  the  house  to  think  a  little. 
Serena  had  begged  him  to  smoke 
in  her  library.  This  was  unusual. 
She  rather  liked  the  odor  ol  to 
bacco,  but  entertained  antique  pre 
judices  in  regard  to  the  habit,  as 
her  doctor  knew  to  his  postpran- 
[103] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

dial  discomfort.  John  had  two  sub 
jects  for  reflection.  One  he  put 
aside.  The  other  was  answered  in 
a  measure  by  the  revolver  in  his 
breast  pocket.  He  walked  on, 
keenly  scrutinizing  those  who  went 
by.  About  dusk  he  observed  a 
large  man  under  a  slouched  felt  hat 
and  in  a  loose  cloak,  a  rather  un 
common  garment.  He  was  smok 
ing.  He  paused  a  moment  oppo 
site  to  Serena's  lane,  and  then 
continued  on  his  way.  About  half 
a  block  farther  he  crossed  over, 
and,  as  John  had  lingered,  they 
approached  each  other.  John 
dropped  his  cigar  behind  him,  and, 
holding  a  fresh  one  in  his  hand, 
paused,  asking  in  his  most  civil 
[104] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

way  for  a  light.  The  other  gave 
him  his  cigar  without  words.  As 
John  lighted  his  own,  he  let  fall 
the  stranger's  cigar.  On  this  he 
apologized  profusely,  and  offered 
his  open  cigar-case.  The  man 
helped  himself,  and  said,  "Much 
obliged."  As  he  secured  a  light 
from  John's  cigar,  it  was  too  dark 
to  see  well,  but  the  illumination  of 
the  two  bright  tips  lighted  up  a 
coarse  face  in  flashes.  The  man 
had  a  large  wart  on  his  left  cheek. 
John  said,  "  You  will  find  the  cigar 
good,"  and  moved  on  murmuring 
to  himself:  "  We  are  to  have  two, 
then.  Oh,  Rena,  your  fear  of 
wholesome  publicity  may  prove  to 
be  a  pretty  business.  A  few  police- 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

men  would  —  well,  I  think  I  can 
arrange  it.  And  where  is  Mr. 
Lytton  ?  This  beats  tarpon-fish 
ing."  He  made  a  long  circuit  and 
reentered  the  house  at  the  back 
door,  throwing  away  his  cigar. 

At  six-thirty  the  door-bell  rang, 
and  the  servant  announced  Mr. 
Lytton.  Serena  rose,  and  said  un 
der  her  breath,  "  Tell  Mr.  John 
after  the  man  comes  in." 

She  was  amazed  to  feel  so  tran 
quil.  Was  it  John?  Meanwhile 
Mr.  Lytton  in  the  hall  reopened 
the  street  door  so  as  to  leave  it 
slightly  ajar,  and  a  moment  later 
was  seated  at  the  fire,  while  Serena 
listened  for  her  cousin's  step  on  the 
stair.  He  had  gone  quietly  down 
[106] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

the  back  stairway,  warned  the  wo 
men  to  keep  the  back  door  locked, 
and  waited  a  moment. 

Mr.  Lytton  said :  "  Mr.  Seeley 
is  out  of  town.  I  have  come  for 
the  ring.  I  cannot  consent,  ma'am, 
to  your  delaying  its  return."  His 
tone  was  peremptory. 

Serena  glanced  at  the  half-closed 
door  which  led  into  the  dining- 
room,  and  hearing  no  sign  of  John, 
became  anxious,  but,  to  her  sur 
prise,  not  at  all  alarmed.  She  had 
failed  John  once.  He  had  never 
failed  her.  Mr.  Lytton  arose, 
looked  into  the  back  room,  and  re 
turned  without  explaining  his  cau 
tious  inspection.  At  this  moment 
the  front  door  was  heard  to  close 

[107] 


A   COMEDY   OF    CONSCIENCE 

gently.  The  thief  of  the  trolley- 
car  entered.  Serena  rose.  The 
newcomer  caught  her  by  the  wrist, 
and  said :  "  Now,  no  nonsense, 
miss  ;  I  want  my  ring." 

Serena  was  never  timid  in  an 
emergency.  She  said :  "  Be  so 
good  as  not  to  clasp  my  wrist  so 
hard.  I  can't  get  away." 

"  Give  me  my  ring  !  " 

"  It  is  not  yours,"  she  said  boldly, 
"and  I  have  not  got  it  with  me." 
She  was  very  quiet,  almost  cool. 
John  had  it. 

"Where  is  it?" 

"  That  you  will  not  know  until 
you  prove  that  you  own  it." 

"  You  had  best  tell  us,  or — " 

"  I  will  die  first." 
[108] 


Both  men  were  too  old  at  the  game  to  hesitate. 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

At  this  moment  the  door  was 
thrown  open,  and  John  cried  out, 
"  Hands  up,"  the  gleaming  steel 
barrel  of  a  revolver  emphasizing 
the  order.  Both  men  were  too  old 
at  the  game  to  hesitate.  They 
obeyed  him,  and  Serena  fell  into 
a  chair,  not  too  scared  to  fail  of 
admiration  of  the  handsome  figure 
in  a  velvet  lounging-jacket.  Said 
John,  "  A  single  shot  will  call  the 
police,  but  I  never  miss." 

Serena  was  amused,  even  at  this 
critical  moment,  at  the  absurdity  of 
the  two  scamps  with  their  hands  in 
the  air. 

"Move  a  little  nearer,  you  fel 
lows,"  said  John.  "  So,  that  will 
do ;  now  we  will  talk.  Be  so 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

good  as  to  remember  that  a  shot 
will  cripple  one  of  you  and  call  the 
officers.  Now  answer  me.  Where 
did  you  get  that  ring  ?  You,  the 
big  chap." 

"  It  is  mine." 

"  Stuff!  Don't  trifle.  Answer. 
If  you  tell  the  truth  and  I  can 
prove  it,  you  may  go.  By  the 
way,  you  other  fellow,  I  do  not 
want  you.  You  may  go;  but 
hands  up  and  shut  the  door  after 
you." 

The  gentleman  in  question  made 
no  reply  except  to  obey.  He 
closed  the  library  door  behind  him, 
and  was  wise  enough  to  carry  off 
Serena's  seal  jacket  and  John's 
overcoat.  The  front  door  shut 
clamorously. 

[112] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  And  now,"  said  John,  "  I  want 
to   know.     Don't    stir.     Keep   up 
your  hands  —  higher.     It  is  a  trifle 
fatiguing.     Moses  found  it  so." 
-Oh,  John!" 

"  Be  quiet,  Rena.  This  gentle 
man  has  the  floor.  Come,  now, 
out  with  it.  The  truth  or  the 
penitentiary." 

"  You  can't  prove  nothing." 
1 '  What  about  that  pocket-book  ?  " 
"  And  my  luck-penny  ?  " 
"  Do,  Rena,  keep  quiet." 
"  Will  you  let  me  go  if  I  own  up 
square  ?  " 
-I  will." 

"How  shall  I  be  sure?" 
"  Damn  it,  you  fool !     You  can't 
help  telling,  and  I  have  promised. 
You  have  got  to  trust  the  incon- 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

ceivable  probability  of  having  to 
do  with  a  gentleman." 

"  Well,  I  stole  it  in  New  York. 
It  was  part  of  the  plunder  in  the 
big  Schmitt  burglary  last  May." 

"  Who  has  the  proof?  " 

"The  police  in  New  York  has 
the  description.  Now  let  me  go." 

"  Not  much.  Here,  Rena,  write. 
I  will  dictate : 

"POLICE  HEADQUARTERS,  NEW  YORK: 
"  Found,  set  in  a  gold  ring  with 
French  hall-mark  of  1838,  a  diamond, 
value  about  eight  hundred  dollars,  two 
and  a  half  carats.  Schmitt  burglary. 
Instant  answer.  Repeat  message." 

Serena  wrote  as  he  dictated. 
"Read  it  aloud.  ,     .  That  will  do. 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

Now  put  on  your  wraps  and  take 
that  telegram  yourself  to  the  near 
est  station.  Take  your  maid.  Give 
the  operator  five  dollars,  and  prom 
ise  five  more  for  an  immediate  an 
swer.  Wait  for  it.  Go  out  the 
back  way.  I  will  amuse  our  guest. 
Tell  the  police  outside  to  wait. 
If  the  reply  is  as  it  should  be,  send 
them  away.  They  will  under 
stand." 

She  read  over  the  telegram,  re 
peated  her  cousin's  directions,  and 
left  at  once. 


XIII 

"  AND  now,"  said  John,  "  a  mo- 
-^~^  ment."  He  came  closer,  put 
the  pistol  to  the  man's  head,  and 
with  his  left  hand  extracted  a  re 
volver  from  the  breast  pocket  of 
the  thief's  coat.  He  let  it  fall  into 
his  own  pocket,  and  said:  "Sit 
down  ;  drop  your  hands  ;  you  must 
be  tired.  Let  us  talk.  What  is 
your  name  ?  Any  alias  will  do.  I 
want  a  convenient  handle." 

"  Don't  know  what  for.  Hall, 
Joe  Hall,  will  do."  He  was  angry 
and  sullen. 

[116] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"What  's  your  special  line  of 
business  ?  I  take  it  Miss  Vernon's 
purse  was  a  little  side  sport.  The 
moral  is,  Keep  to  your  own  line; 
don't  speculate.  By  the  way,  have 
you  kept  that  purse  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  use  it  myself.  I  '11  chuck 
it  into  the  bargain.  Money  's  gone, 
of  course.  There  's  a  queer  penny ; 
it  's  in  it  now.  Oh,  come  to  think, 
my  gal  tried  a  receipt  there  was. 
Pretty  nigh  pizened  me.  Ain't 
been  the  same  man  since.  You 
can  have  the  purse." 

"Put  the  purse  on  that  chair." 
He  did  so.  "  Variety  of  knowledge 
is  of  value  in  all  the  professions, 
Mr.  Hall." 

-What?" 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Well,  that  luck-penny  is  worth 
about  one  hundred  dollars;  a  rare 


coin." 


"  Gosh  !  I  missed  it,  did  n't  I  ?  " 
"  Yes,  you    did.       Suppose   we 
talk.    We  have  two  or  three  hours. 
If  you  are  not  lying  you  are  safe." 
"  I  was  on  the  square,  by  —  " 
"  We  can't  sit  here  for  an  hour 
or  two   in    silence.     Don't   swear, 
not  here  at  least.     Tell  me  your 
biggest  burgle." 

What  followed  was  sufficiently 
entertaining,  and  would  have  set 
up  in  detective  and  anti-detective 
crime  literature  a  dozen  small 
story-tellers.  Joe,  beginning  to 
feel  safe,  was  flattered  and  at  last 
fluent.  John  was  delighted — ap 
preciative  -of  the  joy  of  risks. 
[118] 


A   COMEDY    OF   CONSCIENCE 

"If  you  were  to  put  all  this 
cleverness  into  some  regular,  hon 
est  work  —  why  not,  Mr.  Hall  ?  " 

"  Would  n't  be  any  fun  in  it." 

"  No,  I  see.     Pray  go  on." 

"Well,  shall  I  tell  you  how  I 
stole  the  —  well,  no  good  to  name 
them  —  the  pearls  last  year,  and 
what  came  of  it?"  He  laughed, 
now  quite  at  ease. 

"A  good  story,"  said  John. 

"  There  is  a  better  one." 

"What's  that?" 

"Oh,  about  the  watermelon  bank. 
Tom  Crocker,  he  used  to  keep  all 
his  money  in  a  watermelon.  And 
Tom's  grandmother,  she  give  away 
that  watermelon  to  —  " 

At  this  moment  Serena,  red  and 
handsome,  returned  breathless. 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  It  's  all  right,"  she  cried  ;  "  he 
told  the  truth.  Here  is  the  tele 
gram  ;  read  it." 

"  DETECTIVE  OFFICE,  POLICE  HEAD 
QUARTERS,  NEW  YORK. 
"  Hold  thief  jf  you  have  him. 

"Not  I,"  said  John. 
"Oh,  no,"  said  Serena. 

"  Description  correct.  Any  clue  to 
the  ruby  bracelet?" 

Joe  grinned.  "  I  did  n't  drop 
that  in  the  bag,  sir." 

"  No.     Police  gone,  Serena  ?  " 

"  There  are  none." 

"  Never  were,"  said  John. 

"Euchred  all  round,"  said  Joe. 

"Now,  my  man,"  said  John,  "  you 
may  go.  Your  story  will  never  be 

[120] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

finished.  This  is  very  like  com 
pounding  a  felony  —  but  Miss  Ver- 
non  is  averse  to  publicity." 

"  Me,  too,"  said  Joe,  much  re 
lieved.  "  Never  told  a  lie  in  my 
life." 

"  Until  now,"  said  John.  "  Get 
out  of  this." 

"  Good  night,  sir  "  ;  and  Joe,  ac 
companied  to  the  door  by  John, 
departed  in  great  haste. 


[121] 


XIV 

TOHN  came  back.  It  was  ten 
J  o'clock.  "Rena,"  he  said,  "you 
may  now  comfortably  rock  to  sleep 
that  uneasy,  over-educated  con 
science.  You  want  a  care-taker, 
Rena ;  you  must  have  been  born  an 
orphan.  How  I  am  to  settle  with 
the  New  York  police  is  past  my 
comprehension." 

"  John,  I  am,  as  always,  in  your 
debt." 

"Then  pay," he  said. 

"  I  cannot;   I  never  can." 

[122] 


A    COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"Try;  an  effort  at  honesty  is 
always  possible,  even  for  the  most 
depraved." 

"  What  can  I  do,  John  ?  " 

"You  know  well  enough." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  looking  him  full 
in  the  eyes,  a  little  flushed,  a  look 
of  tender  sadness  in  the  face  lines. 
"  I  -  -  I  cannot  pretend  to  misun 
derstand  you.  I  -  -  I  have  liked 
you  ever  since  we  were  children. 
I  know  how  great,  how  unde 
served,  is  all  your  love  and  pa 
tience,  but— 

"  But  what,  Rena  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  —  I  am  not  sure,  and  — 
not  to  be  sure  would  be  unjust, 
wicked.  It  is  such  a —  I  cannot" 

"Say  will  not,  Rena." 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  But  I  do  not  want  to  say  that. 
It  seems  hard.  It  is  always  you 
who  are  good  and  helpful,  and  it 
is  I  who  have  no  way  to  thank 
you." 

"  But  there  is  a  way." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  I  know.  I  —  I 
can't,  John." 

Then  John  Winterbourne  bent 
over  her  and  took  her  hand  and 
caressed  it  with  a  light  touch  of 
his  own,  and  said  :  "  Well,  my  dear 
Rena,  never  mind  me.  Unless  it  is 
to  make  you  also  happy,  as  I  should 
be,  I  do  not  want  you  to  say  '  Yes.' 
Either  you  care  for  —  no,  love  me, 
or  you  do  not ;  and  if  not,  let  us  go 
on  as  we  have  done.  It  is  only 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

one  more  disappointment.  Were 
the  ducks  good,  Rena  ?  " 

"Oh,  John,  when  —  how  can 
you !  When  I  am  hurt,  troubled, 
because  I  cannot  —  to  talk  —  about 
—  about  ducks." 

"  Then  damn  the  ducks  ! " 

"John!" 

"  Suppose  you  go  to  bed,  Rena ; 
you  are  nervous." 

"  I  never  was  nervous  in  my 
life." 

"  Your  eyes  are  red." 

"  They  are  not." 

"  Go  to  bed,  dear.  May  I  smoke 
here  ?  Where  is  your  last  '  Spec 
tator'?" 

There  was  in  this  cold  ending  of 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

an  imminent  love-scene  something 
which  Rena  felt  to  be  harsh  and 
unfit.  She  cared  most  truly  for 
this  man,  and  knew,  too,  he  was 
acting  in  order  to  set  her  at  ease. 
She  moved  toward  the  door.  Then 
she  turned  and  said  : 

"I  do  not  like,  John,  to  be  al 
ways  weighed  down  with  debt. 
Things  cannot  go  on  as  they  have 
done." 

"  My  dear  Rena,  you  can  send 
the  scale  flying  and  make  me  the 
abject,  hopeless  debtor.  One 
word,  dear  —  no,  three." 

"  I  cannot.  Indeed  I  cannot. 
"  Good  night,  John."  She  left  the 
room.  He  heard  her  footfall  on 
the  stairs,  heard  the  sound  of  win- 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

dows  closed  and  of  bolts  shot. 
The  servants  had  gone  to  bed ;  the 
house  was  still. 

John  Winterbourne  lighted  a 
cigar  and  sat  down.  He  read  no 
journal ;  a  half-hour  went  by.  He 
sat  up  of  a  sudden.  Was  that  Rena? 
He  went  out  into  the  dark  hall 
way.  Then  he  heard  Rena's  voice 
out  of  the  gloom  overhead  : 

"John!" 

"What  is  it,  Rena?  Anything 
wrong?  " 

"  No." 

"  What  the  deuce  is  it  ? " 

"  Nothing.  You  don't  think 
those  burglars  could — " 

"  Dear  child  !  It  is  not  eleven. 
Go  to  bed." 

[127] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  Good  night,   Cousin  John.     I 
—  I    want  to   say   something  —  I 


cannot  —  " 


"  Very  good,  dear.     I  will  come 
up." 

"No,    please    not.     You    must 
not,    John." 

"Oh,   all    right.     What    is    it? 
Won't  it  keep?" 

"Please   to    go  away  before   I 
come  down  to-morrow." 

"By     George!      Really!     Cer 
tainly,  Rena.     6  A.M.  ?  " 

"  John  !  "     This  was  very  low. 

"  Well  ? " 

"  I  think  I  love  you." 

"  Oh,  Rena  !  " 

"And    come    back    to    dinner, 
John." 

[128] 


A   COMEDY   OF   CONSCIENCE 

"  God  bless  you,  Rena,"  he  said 
as  he  heard  the  quick  retreat  of 
feet  overhead. 

Then  John  Winterbourne  went 
back  to  the  library,  where  he  sat 
down  and  wrote  a  letter  to  Serena 
Vernon ;  but  what  he  wrote  I  do 
not  know, 


[129] 


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